


cover my eyes, cover my ears

by LadyAllana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Consensual Possession, Family, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Lucifer Feels, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Protective Lucifer, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-28 06:18:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13898073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAllana/pseuds/LadyAllana
Summary: Lucifer claims he is doing all this to get rid of Michael but even if that wasn't the case, Sam can't afford to do anything less than saying "yes."





	1. cover my eyes, cover my ears

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I will be able to continue this...I have so many feels about Gabriel but I also know that SPN is going to screw him over.
> 
> Also it's going to be mainly Lucifer POV because I'm still not over him crying about killing Gabe, whereas he has no problems killing and mocking others whatsoever.

*** “You know the reason why Asmodeus is so powerful, you are going to rescue him aren’t you?”

 

She shouldn’t ever be allowed to heaven and yet the same went for him until a couple of days ago so who is he to judge really? Still, looking at the utter void she is, the darkness that threatens to swallow him, that has swallowed him before, impossible to control even for four archangels and their father combined. 

 

Making the devil shiver, on his throne in heaven. Go Amara!

 

“Why should I?”

 

It’s impossible to deny his suspicions, the tricks employed by Asmodeus are so familiar, yet he knows that the knowledge didn’t pass down from him, in fact what he is using isn’t knowledge at all but raw power, impossible to be given freely and the Princes of Hell were never supposed to ask for permission in the first place.

 

So, he goes for nonchalance, the irony, laughs and tricks and all the ways he can annoy his aunt, but all die in his throat, the irony of the irony is after all not lost on him.

 

“Because he is your brother. Your dearest brother, the only one who didn’t forsake you for who you are. He is your equal, trampled under the foot of trash you’ve created.”

 

She folds back on herself then, for a moment Lucifer is actually afraid that she is going to reach and touch his arm, bring him back in to the endless void he has tried an eternity to escape. Can he really escape Amara’s wishes if it came to it? Can she be persuaded to act against Michael?

 

“Just because you are different doesn’t mean you can’t exist together, Gabriel knew that.”

 

“He tried to kill me.” 

 

He pouts. As if he is a toddler still, as if he hasn’t practically raised his brother once, a regular Dean to a much more naughty Sam, well Lucifer had always been the one dragging Gabriel to his tricks, something that has stuck along the line with him so much so that after escaping heaven he has turned himself into the Trickster, causing mischief twice as much for the both of them while he rotted away in the cage, robbed of laughter and sanity and whatever good the mark had still left in him by the time it was done ruining his grace.

 

Which was again Amara’s and dad’s fault but maybe it’s not the best idea to tell her that.

 

“He tried to stop the world from ending. There is a difference. You know it because you taught me. And you will learn it again because it has become my duty to teach you. You raised him Lucifer, he is the only ally you can hope to trust when Michael attacks.”

 

Perhaps it’s not a good idea that a year ago she was the one trying to destroy all of being either. He thinks that temper tantrums are genetic and his desire to scream his head of occasionally to get the attention of his father, or Michael has come from his aunt. So he can at least guess what offense instead of defense might get him and keeps himself from quipping.

 

“How do you know that? How do you know that he won’t chose Michael or those pesky humans he died for? Defied me for?”

 

She smiles at him and it’s warm, somehow so very warm when he had always taught freezing cold was all the two of them could comprehend.

 

“Because he always chose you first... think about it.”


	2. tell me these words are a lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many POV's..... whatever.

“Ok listen up!”

 

Note to self, Dean thinks, redraw the sigils, redo the spells and maybe move out as soon as possible and burn the place down before doing so because the Satan is in their freaking bunker. With burgers, a six pack and a huge teddy bear with red horns in the middle of its two floppy ears. It’s obviously for Jack who looks at him with a mixture of shock, disgust and delight. The latter Dean desperately hopes is for the prospect of burgers and toys because he has actually gotten to like the kid and it would be such a waste to waste him now. 

 

Anyways, back to the Satan in their living room, he on busted knees and Sam on sleepless zombie reading marathon spring up, his face is twisted in anger, or so he presumes and Sam with abject horror.

 

“Why the fuck should we listen to you?”

 

Blades and guns in the air, even though they know that the untrained baby Nephilim is their only change against Lucifer if he wanted to kill them. The said untrained Nephilim, who was too busy teaching Cas the wonders of computer games to even pause the damn car race.

 

“Hello son, hello to you too Dean.”

 

He then actually proceeds to give them the beer, Chuck knows what kinds of poisons he has put in them just for fun, maybe something to burn their throats or boil their intestines where they stand, or perhaps as a lesson for Jack, a new evidence for the ongoing nature vs. nurture research Sam has been conducting over the last 8 months.

 

“You know the same old shit, enemy of my enemy is my...something.”

 

Jack takes the burger from his father’s hands, gives it a precautionary sniff and proceeds to eat it in a speed that would probably disgust normal people but gives Dean an odd sense of pride in the boy.

 

He can’t really help it, a life time of raising floppy haired boys will do that to you. He forcefully refuses the burger Lucifer offers to him, the Satan shrugs and takes a huge bit out of it not minding the half-horrified look on Cas’ face. 

 

Go figure that their resident angel, who didn’t even get up when Lucifer showed up to be disturbed at the sight of his older brother eating something greasy.

 

“Speaking of enemies, I got a vision from auntie dearest, who by the way sends her amorous regards to the lover boy over there. I had some suspicions and she confirmed them for me.”

 

Dean is kind of honestly glad he hasn’t taken the burger, no matter how deliciously the father and the son duo seem to be eating it because he is starting to feel pretty nauseous. 

 

“You mean Amara?”

 

“Well, I only have one aunt... but with Dad who really knows? I mean do you Castiel? Any other aunts, uncles? An old wrinkly grandmother? Nope? I didn’t think so.”

 

“You are ruling heaven right? So why do you need hell?” asks Sam, ever the tactful one. It hurts Dean to see his baby brother facing his very worst demon, the demon no matter what Dean does he just can’t keep Sammy safe and away from and it’s always Sammy who ends up asking the right questions and taking action when Dean buries his fear in snark and jokes.

 

“Because that ungrateful asshole is still sitting on my throne and because something bigger is coming. This alternate Michael is victorious, cruel even by my standards and you, you are the perfect vessel Dean. He will ride your ass as if you were a Harley.”

 

Threats of possession are so five years ago. At this point there isn’t really much that can faze Dean, except perhaps the fact that Lucifer genuinely- well however genuine could the devil really be- seems to be worried about their impending doom, something which Castiel has repeatedly talked with him about and seems to agree.

 

However, Cas has even a worse record when it comes to logical decision making than Dean, so he isn’t giving any points to him for this one.

 

Yet.

 

Castiel does indeed seem to be calmer, leaned close to Jack’s side but otherwise seemingly unperturbed. Perhaps even a little bored with his older brother’s shenanigans. Well, no one can really blame him.

 

“Ok, say that we help you out, to what? regain hell? What’s in it for us?”

 

Lucifer looks at Jack with a smile and then points his arm to where Cas is sitting, in a gesture weirdly politician like as if he is addressing him and only him without any care in the world about the two hunters still armed to nines standing next to him.

 

“I will .... grudgingly leave the rule of Heaven.”

 

“What? To Cas? You expect us to believe that?” 

 

“No. Heaven is in no position to accept the word of a seraphim. It’s why they gave me the throne, because I was the only one strong enough.”

He turns to Castiel, Dean can’t even listen to him straight at first because he is too busy deciding what is the right place to stand, even though it’s obviously useless, whether he stands between Lucifer and his little brother, or between his best friend and his older brother. It’s an instinct, a death drive that has been installed to him from the moment his dad gave him Sammy to carry out from that burning house, a promise he has made to a mom who was gone but back and gone again in the last year. A promise he had selfishly thought to stop keeping now that she was back but written so deep in his bones, deeper than all the angel sigils and hell tortures that no matter what he can’t seem to shake it off.

 

“Asmodeus is strong enough to attack me. He can shapeshift and create copies of himself good enough to deceive me, an archangel. He knows that only an archangel blade will be good enough against me and he is siphoning his power from somewhere.”

 

He is looking at Cas like he is waiting for the penny, the shoe or the fucking piano from the ceiling to drop and in return Cas tilts his head in deep contemplation and Dean can literally see the recognition, the shock and almost what looks like hope bloom in the blues of his eyes, like a lightning bolt in the storm and Dean is %90 sure he isn’t hallucinating or waxing poetic, no man no, because Jack also turns to look at him with a mouth full of fries and tilts his head as well, an act so carbon copy that puts a crease between Lucifer’s eyes.

 

“So what he got to the cage?” he asks. His mind unwillingly goes to Adam, whose soul they have been assured in heaven, but whose body is still locked there with Michael, another responsibility he has failed in, another face he tries to bury in booze every night.

 

“Michael never dabbled in magic, besides he is out of use.”

 

Lucifer reaches out to take what’s left of the fries from Jack, who reluctantly gives him a couple, his eyes firmly refusing to make contact with his biological father and instead focusing on the potato. 

 

“He said shapeshift Dean...” 

 

And with that he can see the walls holding his brother up crumble down. Sam lowers the gun, then lowers himself to a chair near by as if he has been robbed of all energy, as if he is a puppet whose strings have been cut down by Lucifer’s explanation. Dean doesn’t need it spelled out to him, though he can practically see Castiel explaining what’s going to Jack mentally.

 

A lone tear falls down Sam’s cheek, followed by a trembling breathe he struggles to take.

 

And Dean knows.

 

It is Gabriel.

 

**

 

He wakes up to agony. He isn’t just talking about the broken bones or the bruises or the knives sticking from his torso. He has been cut off from his grace, or maybe torn of would be a better description, one his terror riddled mind can’t just come up with at the moment because after all those years of acting as if he was not an archangel, now he technically isn’t one and the thought of it is just too terrifying for him to comprehend. Now he is stuck in this vessel that he has created millennia’s ago, as in in his being, in his whatever that has remained from his grace he can feel every ache of every single day this body has went through.

 

And he would be the last one to say he had been careful with it.

 

Case in point the last thing he remembers is getting stabbed by his own brother, by his own blade.

 

When he finally dares to open his eyes, when the stench of what he presumes to be hell forces tears out of them with its sheer strength and he has to blink, that’s when he sees her.

 

Dark halo all around, long dark dress, dark hair flowing down her back in this parody of mock dignity, as if he hasn’t watched her bloodied and messed up, dragged to the depths of the nothingness she has come from, standing behind Michael and Lucifer, a more solemn time then hen he had told Michael to fuck off and left home for the first and the last time.

 

She comes and touches the places where he can feel the blades sticking through skin and muscle until he becomes numb under tender fingers, until he starts to shiver, and she doesn’t stop till his teeth start clattering with it.

 

“How are you out?” he manages to ask, when he gains something resembling control of his mouth.

 

“It is a longer story than what you have time for.” 

 

It’s only after she has mysteriously disappeared that he realizes that he doesn’t even know if the Earth is still standing, if it survived his brothers or what happened to them and father if Amara is running around freely like this.

 

He has been cut off from everything but pain.


	3. it can't be true that i'm losing you

“Why Sam?”

 

He can hear the desperation in Dean’s voice, tortured by yet another sacrifice he isn’t allowed to make instead of his little brother. But Sam is long past this, he has accepted it the moment Lucifer mentioned he needed all that muscly glory of yours to raise my brother up from perdition. He has been ready for it the moment he realized it was Gabriel the devil was trying to rescue from hell. 

 

The rest of what happened during the last ten minutes is a bit of a blur to Sam, he is vaguely aware that Cas had to restrain Dean by pushing him to the wall, that Jack is still sitting motionless where they left him analyzing the well what can you do expression on Lucifer’s face. The boy seems to be strangely fascinated with him and it’s important if not urgent in the back of his mind but Gabriel takes precedence.

 

He always had.

 

Their affair was perhaps a bit subtler than what Lucifer had claimed minutes ago, more of what angels seems to call a “profound bond” rather than a marriage fallen apart in the hands of a third party, sorry for that by the way but it was weird as hell to see my brother drooling over my vessel. 

 

Never the less it was a bond that they had acknowledged after Mystery Spot before Sam had even known about his true identity and had lingered there, aching for skin to skin contact Sam wasn’t able to give fighting for Dean’s soul and then the apocalypse on their ass, till the hotel where Gabriel was butchered down by Lucifer trying to save them. And Sam, he has been subjected to so many tortures before and since but the pain of it is still there, a broken bond that he can’t heal but can’t seem to get rid of either. Like an open vein, destined to leak blood till the rest of eternity. 

 

“This vessel was resurrected with the spells to keep me tied down, while the spells are no longer active it doesn’t mean that there aren’t any remnants left. What do you think Assmodeus is using to keep Gabriel locked up?”

 

Sam remembers Crowley’s spells, what got them into this whole mess when he trapped Lucifer in hell instead of the cage, foolishly thinking he could overpower him. Crowley has paid his dues since then, a crossroads demon true and true at the end and sacrificed himself so that Sam and Dean could cross over back to their world safely.

 

It’s a common theme around them, all their friends and allies sacrificing their own lives for the sake of Winchesters, a trail of blood always following them around, Crowley and Kevin and Charlie and Ellen and Jo and Bobby going on and on and on. It can’t be like that this time, now that he knows that there is a possibility Gabriel is no longer a forgotten name in an endless list.

 

“There is no way he could be able to overpower an archangel on his own.” Lucifer continues, breaking Sam’s unnecessary musings.

 

“Considering that, even without the potential danger of dragging this vessel around, it’s dangerous for me to be anything less than what I’m actually capable of being down here, like Gabriel or Cassie boy over there. That’s Sam, my personal wheels.”

 

“What is the guarantee that you’ll get out when it’s all over with?” Cas asks gruffly, a firm hand still holding Dean down by the knee, comforting but a warning at the same time. It’s Cas who is always forced to walk the thin line between heaven and earth and while he remains loyal to them he is also making it clear that any attack against the devil is not welcome at this point, even if it means he has to hurt Dean.

 

The only love they are allowed to have is the destroying kind.

 

“I told you, it’s the spell. Plus,” he shrugs and stares at the greasy on his fingers, as if he is going to start licking them at any point. “Gabriel won’t let me stay.”

 

Dean’s eyebrows go up and Castiel tilts his head, bringing their heads close enough to touch. Sam has no idea if Lucifer can still feel what’s left of the threads around his heart when Cas has never been able to to start with. But Lucifer and Gabriel had been from the same mold and Lucifer has spent centuries wrapped around his soul so perhaps it shouldn’t be as surprising.

 

***

 

“If anything goes wrong, if he stays Dean, I need you to take me down.”

 

And that’s the problem, whatever happens, whatever is at stake the Winchester brothers always chose each other. 

 

For a long time, this has been unfathomable to Lucifer, that these humans feel the pain of it just as acutely as them, a wonder to him and Michael both during the time they have spent at the cage, before Michael went mad with realization.

 

Lucifer had been mad long before it came to that. Now knowing that Dean has gone so far as to kill Death to keep his brother safe the devil also feels the tinges of regret, for the brother he could have speared but chose to kill. Back then he had recognized it as betrayal, a sign that Gabriel after so long had chosen to side with Michael because it wasn’t reasonable for him to lower himself to side with the humans. Only after he had realized that Gabriel had been so afraid to lose him and Michael and all the beings he had adored down here, that his hand had been forced. Gabriel’s attack hadn’t been him betraying Lucifer but Lucifer betraying the brother he had cared about the most.

 

“Sam-“ 

 

Dean Winchester begs at his brother and yes, Lucifer thinks, I can recognize this feeling. This helplessness of a choice impossible to make. 

 

“No. Hell, heaven, empty, the freaking cage I don’t care you have to kill me.”

 

Castiel is standing next to him, automatically one step behind because it’s impossible even for him to erase eons of training given to him as a soldier of heaven. Now that Lucifer is at command, though he knows the baby angel has no problem stabbing him at the back whatsoever, as long as their motives align Castiel will do his best to play the negotiator because he is still instinctively looking for a commander to follow. 

 

“I’m not doing this for you guys or your measly Earth.” 

 

He is mocking them, speaking to them like the little children they are and while he has gained a new appreciation of them spending all that time with Sam in the cage it is true that they can’t comprehend the gravity of the situation like he or even Castiel can. 

 

“I’m doing it for Gabriel. Besides it does me no good if he sides with bizarro Michael when he comes.”

 

“You can just kill him. You did it once before.”

 

It had been an argument Sam had used in the cage, he remembers. When Lucifer had yelled and carved at him, written with his blood on the walls that his problem was with their father and the lowly animals he had created called humans, that the plan had never been to kill his siblings to being with, that he wished for them to join him to become their fathers most beloved again.

 

Sam had shouted back, the lifeless threads of Gabriel’s grace wrapped around his ribs, a protecting only an archangel can see now even though many a creature could have felt it strongly before, that he had been trying to kill Michael, had killed Gabriel, the ones Lucifer had once considered closest to him.

 

Lucifer had attacked his soul even harder, boiling race not allowing him to do anything else, lest he start to cry, to crumble, to become a sobbing mess like Michael on the floor. 

 

“No, not again.” he says, and it’s the voice of an archangel, not leaving room for any argument. There is no way back for Raphael unless daddy dearest brings him back and he doesn’t know if their Michael could ever be restored to his former glory.

 

For Gabriel, the brother who had perished by his hands, there is still hope. Lucifer won’t make the same mistake again.

 

"Never again.”


	4. the sun can't fall from the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you, it's a Lucifer angst fest.

He isn’t bothered by the utter disgust on her face, not really, he has killed her twice by now after all but the recent power surge in her is curious, she has been freed from her chains he supposes as he can see the foreign magic around her no longer and now casually wrapped around this bone deep fear she seems to feel against him instead of love, there is also a deep lingering sadness. The former king of hell’s memory between them hangs for a second, and he can see Rowena seeing it through her eyes, how Crowley stabbed himself with an angel blade in defiance of him. Sacrificing himself for the Winchesters.

 

She has spent years upon years trying not to love anything, anyone even of her own creation which makes the wound fester even deeper, centuries of regret poisoning the blood.

 

He empathizes with her and this feeling takes him by surprise for he wasn’t expecting anything other than annoyance caused by her pagan beliefs or lust for her red locks. 

 

This is not him, at least it hasn’t been since he has forgotten to remember. 

 

The witch takes a deep breath and harshly wipes one stray tear threatening to fall from her cat like eyes, faces the Winchesters and offers an actress’s smile. Only then Lucifer realizes how close his own masque was to fall from his face and confusion to take over in front of these measly beings.

 

“Well boys, when I told you that I owed you one, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

 

She looks accusingly at Sam, who in turns offers an apologetic desperate smile. A brief silence looms upon them in which Rowena desperately tries to calm her shaking hands and Sam tries to gulp down the dry itch of expectation in his throat.

 

“Crowley had chains made,” starts the archangel, effectively breaking the trance the two of them seem to be in. The oldest and the strongest being in almost any room, and it still feels weird to take charge when humans are involved. “to keep me trapped in this vessel, I’m sure he boasted you about. It didn’t work of course but it should be able to bring me back in if necessary, which it will be not.”

 

“Well he always had a little bit of witch in him.” says Rowena, solemn. Her son didn’t have her raw power, but he had certainly inherited her cunning intelligence. And it’s easy to see in the thousands of conversations the two could have shared in various points of their lives, in between all those words unsaid, Rowena has heard enough to find a little crumble of peace between pauses. 

 

She starts working on his vessel, with careful calculation and an elegance to her magic that is impossible to uphold in Judeo-Christian tradition- how Lucifer missed that it was Gabriel the first time he and Castiel had been captured he doesn’t want to think about- bounding the vessel in layers and layers of magic in ancient tongue, half afraid he will snap her neck again but sure of her powers as any which of her capability should be. 

 

Lucifer resists the urge in him to attack, to fight back, to defend at least by keeping his eyes solely focused on his son, who is sitting quietly in the corner of the witch’s living room, observing the spell being cast with Castiel looming over his shoulder. The seraph seems to be explaining him the necessary sigils in Enochian, if the boy was born familiar to the language or if it’s Castiel’s upbringing he isn’t sure of.

 

The boys haven’t defined him outright so far but hasn’t made any moves to come closer either. Right now, more than anything his fledging presence in the room only serves to remind him when Raphael and Gabriel were first created and then so many angels that Lucifer can’t even name them all including the ash winged one standing by his son. All had been raised up by the first four, as soldiers for the supposedly harmonious world none would be needed in, or so Father had claimed but Lucifer had still done his duty, kept his distance like Michael and Raphael did while Gabriel messed around with the young of their brethren while he slowly withered away under the pain of the mark.

 

The mark is long gone, first given to Cain and then Michael’s vessel but the darkness remains, a part of him he can no longer blame on Amara or father. Something he has accepted and embraced over time, something that no longer causes any second doubts no matter how much his father and brothers have rubbed it in his face.

 

“It is done”, the witch interrupts his musings. There is a faint trail of blood dripping from her nose and staining her long blue dress. He reaches out for her through the connection between them, using his grace to heal something instead of destroying it after so long.

 

He figures he needs the practice before he tries to do anything drastic.

 

Sam Winchester gets up the same time Rowena lets him outside her circle, step by step matching him, paralleling him in a way no human should be able to. He has to remind himself once again that this vessel will not be his for keeping, if anything he is simply making sure the stupid human doesn’t kill himself trying to save Gabriel from the depths of hell.

 

A little welcome home present for his brother even, if Gabriel agrees to follow him back to heaven as his second in command instead of joining Michael or defying him once again in the name of humanity.

 

“Doth thee Sam Winchester, allow me the Morning Star to take control of your vessel?”

 

“I do.”

 

***

 

It’s a testament to Gabriel’s sheer power how he is still breathing. He is standing so close, merely meters away from his brother and while he can feel the rage of a mere pagan god radiating from the cell Asmodeus has been holding him, Lucifer still can’t feel the grace he has known for eons, confirming his fears that it’s been torn away from Gabriel for some demon’s personal use. It won’t be the case for much longer, he tries to assure his brother mentally even though he knows without access to his grace Gabriel can’t even feel him there. 

 

He might still be suffering the after effects of Michael depleting his grace but now he has the whole host of heaven’s power at his back, given freely and as Castiel had told him before, rage is truly a great motivator.

 

His brother, without holding onto his alternate persona as Loki whose hell is somewhere else wouldn’t have survived the treatment Asmodeus had put him through. It’s debatable if even the satan himself would have survived if that was the case and it’s unacceptable.

 

His captivity under Crowley, however brief and humiliating it had been was clear cut, payback and a show of power Lucifer could respect. In this scenario not only Assmodeus was holding his brother in order to get rid of him but was hurting him for the sake of hurting him, without any cause but his own entertainment.

 

What gave him the right to be entertained from an archangel’s suffering?

 

What was that saying? He might hurt his brethren, but he wouldn’t allow them to be hurt without his orders or permission. No creature living, dead or undead has the right to touch or hurt his younger brothers if Lucifer doesn’t want them to.

 

He has always been selfish that way, hurt and scared and though he was right in his rebellion and will stand for it till the end of his days, he can’t help but to feel sorry for the pain it has caused for Gabriel and Raphael who were forced to choose sides and for Michael who has always stood right by his side until they were forcefully parted.

 

It was a fight been him and his father and it was wrong to make them, those he had cared for and loved above all suffer for it, even if it had been their father sending his sons after the rebel it didn’t make Lucifer any less guilty of what happened afterwards to Gabriel who had lowered himself to the status of a pagan god and associated himself with these meatsuits knowing that he was no longer welcome in heaven, because he had refused to put Lucifer under.

 

For this act of loyalty at least his brother deserves this rescue and so much more.

 

It breaks his heart when he finally enters the cage they are holding his brother, the guards smited and already rotting away on the floor, the smoke still visible upon their bodies.

 

Gabriel’s – Loki’s? How much of brother is still here with his grace grasped tight and squeezed dry by Asmodeus?- mouth is sewn shut, no doubt a not so subtle throw at his adventures as a pagan and his eyes are closed shut as well.

 

It is obvious to him, as it would be to anyone that he isn’t aware that Lucifer is right there with him. 

 

“Hey Gabriel.” He says softly, softer than he thought possible but it’s enough for him to open bloodshot golden eyes, to look at him and whimper and Lucifer knows.

 

He knows that Gabriel is so out of it that it is only the vessel he sees, only Sam and he has seen him before, he can see it in Gabriel’s fragile mind that he always sees Sam one way or another now, a desperate attempt to hurt this higher being by targeting his weakest spot.

 

His brother is hurting for the lover he has thought to have lost, with no idea that Lucifer has come in this vessel to save him.

 

He might have built this place up once upon a time he thinks, but now there is no doubt in his mind that for Gabriel he will burn it down, with Asmodeus and all his ungrateful lackeys with him.


End file.
